


Silver Linings

by Erik_Addictedtometal_Lehnsherr



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (Comics), The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Cheating, M/M, More Couples To Be Added As We Progress!, More Tags To Be Added As We Progress!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-15
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-02-02 20:39:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12733902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erik_Addictedtometal_Lehnsherr/pseuds/Erik_Addictedtometal_Lehnsherr
Summary: Rick Grimes had your everyday modern 'perfect' life. A nice house, a wife, a wonderful son and a daughter on the way to complete their little family. Never in a million years did he expect to come home to divorce papers and his wife packing to leave with his best friend, Shane Walsh.What's he supposed to do now? And, how does his son's sarcastic, egotistical, asshole of a gym teacher play into this?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there! Thanks so much for clicking to read my fanfic. It's my first time dabbling in TWD fanfiction, so I'll be referencing comic/tv things as I go, or trying to. This is modern day, no zombie apocalypse, please keep that in mind. I'll try to do weekly updates on new chapters, but my muse has been very strong lately so I might be able to get a chapter out daily or every two days. Fingers crossed!
> 
> Leave me reviews on what you'd like to see happen, your theories, or characters you'd like to see!

**“Do you even care about us?”**

**“What kind of fucking question is that, Lori?”**

 

They’d been at it since he got home. He hadn’t even gotten a chance to take off his boots before she started drilling into him. For a moment, Rick considered leaving. Grabbing his coat and driving over to Shane’s to stay the night. But, he knew that would make things worse. It always did. He had tried to escape by going to their room with claims of going to bed, but she just followed. Nothing was over until she decided it was, she always had to have the last word.

 

**“You can’t even answer it, can you?”**

**“Carl is in the other room, Lori. What if he wakes up and hears you --”**

**“What? Hears me what, Rick? Asking you the question he asks himself every day that goes by when he doesn’t see his father? Because you’d rather work than be home with us. We need you here more than the station.”**

**“It’s not like I’m off drinking, or hanging with the guys, Lori. I’m working. To put food on the table, to pay the bills, how else are we going to get those things done? You don’t --”**

**“I don’t what, Rick?”**

**“You don’t work, Lori. I’m sorry to sound mean about it, but I’m under a lot of stress. And, evaluations are coming up. I have to put in the hours, I have to make an effort -- damn it, Lori, I could be sheriff!”**

**“You could be single and childless.”**

**“Excuse me?”**

 

Rick was at a loss for words then. He knew things were bad. They were fighting more than anything these days. Never in front of Carl, thank God (or not intentionally), but he didn’t think they were on the verge of divorce yet. He hadn’t had many relationships before Lori, but people worked this type of thing out, right? They tried therapy, other methods of communication before settling on divorce. 

Right?

 

**“I can’t do this anymore, Rick. I can’t let you do this to Carl.”**

**“What exactly am I doing to Carl? Putting a roof over his head, making sure he has toys to enjoy and food to eat? What am I doing to him, Lori?”**

**“You’re neglecting him.”**

**“I’m neglecting him!? How the --”**

**“Mom? Dad?”**

 

The whole world around them seemed to stop. Rick held Lori’s gaze for another few moments before turning his head towards their opened bedroom door. Carl, only a knee-high, standing there with his pillow clutched tightly to his chest and looking absolutely devastated. 

 

**“You don’t care about us, do you, Dad?”**

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

Rick woke with a start. His alarm blaring unforgivingly before the sun even had a chance to shine through the window. The cries of his daughter followed not long after. Still, he laid there, staring blankly at a shadow on the wall. His leave for work ended today, so he knew he had to get up, but his chest was too heavy to budge. His eyes moved around the room, taking note of everything missing in the room. It’d been three months and still, he couldn’t believe it.

Never in a million years would he have thought that by thirty he’d be divorced and the single parent of not just one child, but two. Lori had left and taken everything with her. His heart, their broken vows, his best friend. 

Shane’s deception had been the final shove of the knife. His best friend of near twenty years, sleeping with his wife. He didn’t know for how long, he didn’t particularly care. Whether it was once or every single night he worked late -- it made little difference. They were sleeping together -- they were in love, that’s what Lori had said. Love. She was in love with Shane, and Shane… playboy Shane was in love with her. With his fucking wife.

Never in a million years.

 

**“Dad?”**

**“Carl? Hey, pal, you don’t have to be up for two more hours for school.”** Rick said softly as he finally moved from his spot in the bed to sit up.

**“Judy’s crying. Don’t you hear her?”**

**“Sorry, I --”**

**“She needs changing.”**

**“Yeah. Right. Uh, listen, go lay down on the couch for a little longer. I’ll wake you up in a bit. I’ll get her quiet.”**

**“Okay, dad.”**

 

Rick watched his son disappear into the darkness of the hall. He gave himself another moment to collect himself before he finally rolled out of bed, dragging his feet along down the hall. His eyes briefly moved into Carl’s room to eye the empty bed, but he kept going to the end of the hall where Judith’s room was. She sounded in distress and guilt boiled in the pit of his stomach. How could he have zoned out on those screams?

 

**“Shh, baby, hey. It’s okay. Daddy’s right here.”**

 

Most of the time, she calmed when she saw him. He reckoned she didn’t like being alone in the room when awake. Carl definitely hadn’t when he was this little. He slept in his and Lori’s bed until he was nearly six months. 

Rick carried his daughter downstairs after a quick change, making soft cooing noises to keep her calm, knowing his son was curled up on the couch in the adjacent room to the kitchen. It wasn’t hard to get coffee and breakfast started with an infant against his shoulder. Back when Carl was this small, he was just starting out on the force and working long hours. He didn’t like to think this way, but he’d been thinking recently that Lori hadn’t picked fights back then because she had something to do. Taking care of a baby was a 24/7 job. These last few weeks had been especially hard on Rick, it seemed every hour his daughter was up with one problem or another. Of course, he couldn’t be mad at her, she was a baby, it’s what babies did. But, he was tired because of that among many other reasons.

By the time he was finished with breakfast, the smell was luring his son to the dining room table, no orders to wake up needed. Rick had never learned to cook outside of a few dishes, but the first month of living on pizza and other various take-outs had them all feeling sluggish and worse for wear. As if things weren’t bad enough without their bodies turning against them. Between his lovely neighbor Olivia babysitting and Carl’s school, Rick had taken a cooking class. It was a six-week program and had taught him enough basics that they were getting healthier if nothing else. Carl never made the face he did when he used to eat Lori’s pancakes, so Rick considered it a win for him.

Rick served the egg biscuit cups to his son before he moved to lay Judith down in a nearby planted crib. They sat together and ate while the neighborhood around them woke up. Birds chirping, lawn mowers starting, the older kids joking with one another at the corner in front of the Grimes residence. Still, it was peaceful. 

 

**“Hey, dad, today some kids are going to play bill -- billie -- bill-urds --”**

**“Pool. You can say pool.”** Rick told him with a soft chuckle. **“Billiards.”**

**“Billiards. Can I --”**

**“May I,”** Rick corrected. **“Yeah. Where at? I’ll pick you up when I get off work at five.”**

**“It’s just a couple of blocks over. I can ride my bike. The others are, I -- please?”**

**“No later than five thirty and you better be home or that behind is grass.”**

 

The morning when routinely after that. Carl got himself ready while Rick cleaned up. And, he was able to see his son off to the bus stop before he had to get ready himself. Pulling on his uniform felt so foreign now. It wasn’t the same. He didn’t want to ruin a great morning (not that it started off very great, but his children had a tendency of turning bad situations good), but when he raised his eyes to examine himself in the mirror, he didn’t feel like the same man was staring back. His bare finger had his hand twitching, he looked sick to himself. Olivia didn’t notice anything, nor did his son, so he figured it was in his head. But, he couldn’t right himself with pointing that out. 

With a deep breath, he tried to gather what confidence he had left and carried himself downstairs. It was a quick goodbye to Judith who was happily snoozing in Olivia’s arms before he was out the door and to his car. It was a solemn drive. Nerves made a fool of himself the entire way. He wasn’t sure how he was going to handle the day, what the men were going to say to him. Would they act as though he wasn’t gone for three months? It was a small town, and the story involved two deputies, of course, the entire station would know. 

By the time he arrived at the station, he had to stay seated in his car and run over a pros and cons list of just up and quitting his job now. It was his kids future that had him out of the car and heading inside. It was a short walk to his desk. And, it was like he hadn’t been gone more than a day. Polite nods, good mornings, pats on the back from his fellow deputies. For the first time in months, he felt good. He felt normal, and that was something Rick found himself craving.

Nobody asked him where his ring had gone, nobody wanted to know why he had to take such a long leave. Even the sheriff was giving him paperwork on the first day back. No easy breaking in after his leave. He needed this.

His entire day went easy. Some papers to fill out here and there, a quick patrol of his neighborhood assigned, and listening to the eerily easy day over the radio. Things had a tendency of going wrong for Rick, though. As if his life wasn’t difficult enough. It was on his way back in to punch out for the day.

Shane. 

He knew the man worked here still. Of course, he had. They studied hard to be law enforcement and Shane screwing around with Lori wasn’t going to make the man up and quit his job. Up and move into the city over, yes, but that was a thirty-minute drive at best. There was no reason he wouldn’t keep his job. That didn’t mean Rick had to like it.

 

**“Man, they said you came back today. I’ve been looking everywhere.”**

 

It hurt. How casual Shane sounded as he stood in the middle of the hallway, keeping Rick from going to his desk. 

 

**“I don’t have time for this shit.”** Rick had little patience. It all felt like it was boiling to a point and he didn’t want this.

**“Listen, Rick. We need to talk. I --”**

**“Don’t. We’re not -- if you want to talk, you can come to the courthouse with Lori on the twentieth. Until then, just stay the fuck away from me, Walsh.”**

 

That should have been the end of it. Rick pushed past him and he should have just kept going. But, he knew better. Of course, Shane had something childish to say. It was how he was. Always with the jokes, never seeing things out of his point of view. 

 

**“That’s it, Rick? Twenty years of putting up with your bullshit and you want to brush me off this easy? Listen, man. I know divorce has to suck, but you guys weren’t doing good. You used to come to work every day and fucking tell me. How many nights did you spend on my couch because you couldn’t stop fighting with her? You’ve lost a lot, Rick, and this upcoming court date. It’s not going to go well. They always side with the mother, we’ve seen it happen time and time again. You don’t have to be completely alone, man. I’m here.”**

 

There was a whistling noise in Rick’s ear and his face turned red with anger.

 

**“You’re here? You were fucking my wife, you condescending, arrogant motherfucker!”**

 

Rick wasn’t sure when his body moved, but it did and suddenly, he and Shane were slamming each other into the walls of the halls. Matching punch for punch, tit for tat. It took four men to yank them off of each other and Shane had the audacity to give him a bloodied grin when they were parted. Shane was escorted off, which meant people knew. Whether they acted like they did around Rick all day or not. They knew.

 

**“Sir, please, it was a mistake --”** Rick tried to argue with the sheriff once he was hauled into the man’s office, but he was having none of it.

**“Grimes. Enough. You’re in some tough shit, I get it, but I can’t have you attacking the other deputies. You weren’t ready to come back. It’s okay. Ain’t nothing to be ashamed of.”**

**“I don’t need another leave, just --”**

**“Just what, Grimes? Fire Walsh? We’ve got too little deputies as it is, I can’t just go firing people because you can’t play get along. You’re taking another two weeks leave and we’ll see how you feel then. Now, get the fuck out of my office and I better not see you until those two weeks are up.”**

**“ -- Yes, sir.”**

 

It hadn’t been how Rick wanted to end the day. He knew he couldn’t have avoided Shane forever, but the fact that the man had been seeking him out for the entire day until he tracked him down… it irked him. It made his skin crawl. This was how Shane got his kicks off. Rick just didn’t understand it. It was late by the time he got home, nearing six. But, six or not, when he pulled in and just saw Carl riding his bike up towards the house, all of the frustration finally came to a head from the day.

 

**“What the heck is this?”** Rick demanded as he got out of the car.

**“Sorry, I lost --”**

**“No excuses, Carl. No. You’re grounded. I told you five thirty.”**

**“ -- You’re just coming home yourself!”**

**“I don’t care! You should have been here when I told you to be! Olivia is inside, so you could have gotten in without a problem. You missed your curfew, so you’re not watching television or playing those video games for a week.”**

**“That’s bullshit, dad!”**

**“Excuse me, young man? Where did you learn that language?”**

**“It doesn’t matter.”**

**“Oh, I think it does. Is that how you and your friends are talking these days? Let me guess: they think it’s cool to cuss. That’s peer pressure, Carl. There’s nothing cool about it. It’s disrespectful and it’s rude. I won’t have that language in my house. Which of your friends talks like that? Or am I going to have to ban you from hanging out with all of them after school?”**

**“That’s not fair, dad!”  
“Life isn’t fair, Carl.”**

**“You think I don’t know that?”**

**“Carl -- “**

**“No. Just don’t.”**

 

Rick swallowed the lump that formed in his throat at the sight of his son, teary-eyed and bruising his lip with his teeth. 

 

“ **My friends don’t talk like that. Please don’t ground me from hanging out with them.”**

**“Carl, I can’t have you being influenced --”**

**“It was a teacher.”**

**“Excuse me?”**

**“A teacher. I -- We went to his house to play pool.”**

**“You went to a teacher’s house? Do you know how dangerous that is?”**

**“It’s not like that. He’s fine. The older kids hang out in his garage all the time.”**

**“His garage!? Carl, what the fu --”** Rick bit back the word and stepped back, taking this all in with a deep breath. **“In the car. Now.”**

**“Dad --”**

**“Carl, I said now! You’re showing me where this guy lives and we’re going to have a long discussion on how inappropriate this is!”**

 

Carl looked like he was on the verge of saying the word bullshit again, but he kept his mouth shut for the better and got in the car wordlessly. Rick had to take another breath before he got in the car himself, pulling out of the driveway to follow his son’s directions into the next neighborhood, wondering how long he was going to have to ice his already bruised knuckles after laying into this teacher.


	2. Chapter 2

After school, Carl followed his small group of friends to the bike rack they normally occupied. He’d been surprised more than anything when his father had agreed to let him go play pool after school. Lately, things in the house had been tense. Carl understood, whether the adults in his life thought of him as a kid or not -- he wasn’t. His mother had left with a man he had considered an uncle his entire life. That was three months ago, just a week after coming home with little Judith. Their mother had abandoned them, whether she called to check in on him every day or not. He saw the bigger picture. He saw his father worsening with every day, the strained relationships all around him. He hated it. And, he was stuck in the middle of it all. So, when he was given the opportunity to get away even for a few hours, he jumped.

Not that he wanted to be away from his father, it was just everything else. That house, specifically. Sometimes, it was like he could still hear his mother humming in the kitchen when he came down for breakfast. It was driving him crazy.

 

**“Yo, Earth to Coral, we’re going to be late.”**

**“Don’t call me that,”** Carl protested softly as he hopped onto the back of Ron’s bike.

**“Lighten up.”**

**“Ron,”** Enid said sternly. It wasn’t an order to shut up or a defense for Carl, but it made the point it needed to.

 

The ride didn’t take long, Carl himself only lived ten minutes from the school. Normally, Olivia would be driving him home. But, that had changed in the last few weeks as well. He was able to walk home like the other kids, it was only about five blocks but it was definitely something. He was twelve, after all. Most of his friends had a lot more independence than himself and started off at a young age with that. Specifically Enid, who had practically been on her own since she was seven after her parents died.

He couldn’t dwell on such thoughts. He didn’t have time. Before he knew it, they were turning up a driveway. Several other bikes were scattered across the pavement. Carl just let his drop carelessly, as the others seemed to have. The garage door was open and it wasn’t only the three of them invited. There were at least ten kids huddled inside, Carl vaguely recognized at least two of them as high school students.

 

 **“Hey, Ron, you sure about this?”** Carl asked the other, speaking soft enough that no one (he hoped) would pick up on it.

 **“The others hang out here all the time. It’s cool. Besides, my cousin is here. If anything happens, he’s got our back,”** Ron informed Carl with a point towards one of the older boys who was lining a shot up on the table.

 

They barely made it past the pavement line before the side door of the garage was opening and a man was stepping out. Carl didn’t recognize him, of course. He knew the man was a teacher, gym, he thought they had said. But, that was for high school and he wouldn’t be near that building for another year and a half. After getting a good look at the man, it was clear he couldn’t be just a teacher. It had to be gym, or ROTC or something. Teachers weren’t built, they didn’t carry themselves in the way this man.

 

**“Here, you fucking bloodsuckers.”**

 

Carl almost jumped at the voice, the words making him uneasy, even when he saw the man tossing soda cans towards the others. Carl barely caught his own, not expecting to be given one. It didn’t take much for Ron to get them sitting down on top of some crates, sipping their soda and watching the game play out. Carl had a habit of watching things going on around him closely, so by the third game, he was sure he had it worked out. Not that he spoke from experience, but pool didn’t seem very hard. Hit your color of balls, don’t scratch, and don’t touch the pure black ball until you’ve got no more left. Simple enough.

He crushed his can in his hand it was finally finished or starting to taste gross from the heat. He tossed it towards the bin nearby and turned his attention back to the game, well, more like the people playing it.

 

 **“ -- But, yeah, I mean, she’s hot and all, but way out of my league.”** Carl wasn’t positive about it, but he was sure that one was Spencer talking.

 **“Let me fucking tell you--”** Carl’s eyes snapped towards the teacher looming the table, trying to find his shot. **“Ain’t no such thing as ‘out of my league’. You’re just being a pussy. You got no fucking guts, you need to get some goddamn backbone and go ask the little miss-out. The worst she can say is no, it’s not like she’s gonna beat you over the damn head for asking.”**

 

That seemed to throw the whole atmosphere off. Or, maybe it just did for Carl. Nobody else seemed affected by the man’s words. He wasn’t sure if it was the cursing that had thrown him off guard or the way this man was talking to his students.

 

**“Alright, who’s next? Someone with some fucking fight in them, I hope.”**

 

Carl wasn’t exactly sure why he stood up and went to grab a cue stick without a word, but he did and now he was watching the teacher set-up their to-be game.

 

**“Don’t think you’ve been here before. Welcome to my glorious fuckin’ humble abode. I’d say some shit like: ‘mi casa es su casa’, but then you brats would be touching all over my shit, so stick to the garage.”**

**“I’m not going to touch your shit,”** Carl claimed. It felt weird cursing. God knows before, his mother would have washed his mouth out with a bar of soap. But, he didn’t really have to worry about that anymore, did he?

**“Damn right you won’t. Go ahead and shoot first.”**

 

Within an hour of playing a few games, Carl seemed like a different person. He was boldly grabbing his own drinks, taking his shots that usually ended in a muttered ‘shit!’ when he missed. He felt lighter than he had in awhile. Just enjoying the day, nobody expecting anything from you. He’d been focused on the game, so into it, that he hadn’t even noticed Ron and Enid had left on Enid’s bike.

 

 **“Shit. _Shit_ . It’s almost six?!”** Carl declared as he dropped the pool stick in exchange for his backpack. **“My dad’s gonna go crazy.”**

 **“I’m guessing that means you forfeit,”** Negan said. Carl had learned his name after the first game.

**“Yeah. I’ll kick your ass next time, though.”**

**“Hey,”** Negan called after him just as Carl mounted his bike. **“What your goddamn mouth, kid.”**

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

The closer they got to Negan’s house, the more Carl’s skin itched. His father was furious. Something else had happened, he knew it. His father had a wrap on his fist, a bruise on his cheek, and a look in his eye. Nothing psychotic, Carl knew that much of. The man was upset.

 

**“Did you beat up a criminal?”**

**“No.”**

**“Dad -- “**

**“Which way, Carl?”**

**“Right,”** Carl sighed. **“Third house on the left up here.”**

 

Rick didn’t bother going into the driveway. He parked right in front of it, getting out of the car before Carl could stop him, slamming the door behind him. The look he gave his son ordered him to stay in the car. Rick was furious. Not only had Carl not come home on time, but he was cursing, and hanging out with old men in their garages.

The sheriff uniform must have spooked the kids out because the four still lurking in the garage were on their bikes and out within seconds of his feet touching the driveway. Which left the man in question. Rick didn’t recognize him as one of Carl’s teachers, but that mattered little. Who the fuck invites kids to hang out in his garage?

 

 **“Jesus shit,”** the man called, daring to grin at him.

**“I’ve got a thing or two to talk to you about. My son --”**

**“Carl, right? Little killer, you got there. Witty,”** the man claimed before he looked past Rick. **“You didn’t fucking tell me you had a** dilf **at home. Shoulda brought him earlier.”**

 **“A what?”** Rick spluttered. **“Is that some new-age curse word? -- It doesn’t matter. No. You,”** he said harshly with a jab of a finger into the man’s chest. **“What is wrong with you? Let’s put aside the fact that you bring children to your house to hang out, it’s inappropriate and** you -- you **\-- my son completely disrespected me because of your influence. They are children, you’re a teacher. You should know better than to use such language in front of them.”**

 

Negan didn’t even have time to respond before the door to the garage opened and a woman stepped out, giving them both an odd look. Rick’s eyes fell between the woman and the man in front of him, noting the ring on the hand clutching the pool stick. A wife, it was a perfect piece to fall into their current place.

 

**“Ma’am, I don’t know if you know this, but what your husband is out here doing with these children -- what he’s teaching them is --”**

The woman shook her head and fully stepped out, her hand waving to keep Rick quiet. **“No, no. That isn’t my husband. I told you, Negan, sex isn’t worth any drama,”** she said as she walked briskly past them to what Rick assumed was her car.

 **“Sherry, come on --”** Negan tried, but made no attempt to actually follow her. **“You just cost me tail, Sheriff. What the fuck?”**

**“Tail? I--”**

**“Listen here, you prick. You don’t want your fucking kid out here, then how about you keep a goddamn eye on him? You didn’t know where he was today, right? I mean, you had to have not because you came over here trying to throw a goddamn shit storm. I’d rather these damn brats be at my house than out there doing drugs and shit. But, no, that’s not good for your pedestal parents. Your kid says ‘ _fuck_ ’ and suddenly, the world has gone to hell --”**

 

Rick’s fists tightened as he listened to the man. His ears might as well had been blowing out steam at this point. He stopped listening to the man before him sometime between a shit storm and ‘ _fuck_ ’, then the next thing he knew, his fist was in the air and flying into the man’s jaw.

Rick was in no way a small or weak man. He’d been in plenty of fights and sure, when he was younger, he lost a majority of them. But, since graduating high school, after years at the academy and on the force, he’d learned to hold his own. That all might as well had meant nothing because the man before him took the punch and seemed completely unaffected. His face moved with the motion of the hit, but his body didn’t budge an inch. He didn’t raise his fists back, he didn’t make a pained noise.

No. He just turned to look back at Rick with this twisted grin that made Rick’s stomach knot painfully. He expected the man to start swinging at any moment, but nothing came, even after the pool stick was put down and he got right in Rick’s face.

 

**“That the best you got, Sheriff?”**

 

That taunt was enough to make Rick recoil. It put some space between them and Rick was going to use that to his advantage when he went back in. He knew most of his anger was directed towards Shane and not the man in front of him, but right now, he had ‘patsy’ written all over his place. The only thing that stopped him was the click of a car door opening. Rick whipped around to see his son standing by the door, looking like he had every intention to get between them to stop the fight if one occurred.

Immediately, the anger drained. What the hell was he doing? Picking fights with men twice his size and yes, the man had been a complete asshole since he arrived and had taught Carl words that weren’t for polite conversation. That didn’t mean he deserved Rick laying into him, it didn’t mean it was worth Rick getting beat to a pulp right in front of his son.

 

 **“You stay the hell away from my kid,”** Rick ordered the man in a stern tone.

 

Whether he was angry or not, he could sound it. He turned on his heel and went back to his car, and even if the sound of the man laughing seemed to ring in his ears, he didn’t turn back. He did the adult thing and got into his car, his son followed suit.

 

**“Carl, I know you think you know what you’re doing. But, you’re just a kid. There are rules that you need to follow and I know that may be stressful at times, but you need to know that they’re set to protect you. You don’t need to be happy with the curfew of five thirty, but you need to respect it. Am I understood?”**

 

He didn’t get an answer. Honestly, Rick hadn’t expected to. But, the silence still unnerved him.

It wasn’t long before he was pulling into the driveway and before he could even get the car in park, Carl was out of the car with a slam of his door. Rick stayed put in his car, his hands not leaving the wheel, even with it off. He focused on breathing for a moment, but it didn’t stop the anxious feeling he’d felt for just about the entire day. The only difference this time being the fact that it seemed to bubble over and explode within him.

His forehead hit the wheel as a sob escaped, his fingers clutching tight enough to make them turn a ghostly white. It all came crashing down around him. His career hanging on by a thread, the fear of losing his children looming over him, Shane’s words echoing in his head.

 

 _“What the hell am I going to do?”_ He asked the empty car.


	3. Chapter 3

Rick lifted his eyes off his daughter who continued babbling happily, unphased by the knocking at the door. For a moment, he couldn’t place his finger on who that could be so early in the morning. Most were at work and if Carl had missed his bus, he had a key to let himself right in. 

 

**“I’ll be right back, sweetheart.”**

 

After making sure his daughter was comfortable enough to be out of his eyesight for a minute, Rick stood up and headed into the main hall to open the door, finding Olivia with Judith’s extra baby bag tucked under her arm.

 

**“Oh, Olivia. I’m sorry, I left a voicemail yesterday. I won’t need you to babysit her today, you can take the day off --”**

Olivia tutted at him as she walked right past him to follow Judith’s cooing sounds. **“I received the voicemail, Rick. Small towns have big gossip mills. You didn’t take time off. Not voluntarily, anyway. I don’t think Walsh didn’t deserve what happened to him, but your boss is right. You’re not ready for work, you’re stressed, and you need a break. Judith and I are going to little Hershel's birthday party today and you’re going to get out of this house and find something to do.”**

**“Olivia, I can’t --”**

**“You can,”** she stopped him. **“Rick, I don’t like… confrontation. You know this, so the fact that I’m standing here trying to order you about… that says something, doesn’t it? You’re not doing well, you’ve been holed up in this house for three months and the first time you got out, you get in a fight. You need a moment to breath: go see a movie, go play putt-putt, take a walk in the park, or go shopping. I don’t know -- but, please, do something. You need a moment to yourself, and I know you may not think it, but that’s okay, Rick.”**

 

Rick let out a sigh of defeat, his shoulder hitting the frame of his living room walkway as he watched her collect a few of Judith’s toys and give her a change real quick. Before she left, he gave a quiet ‘thank you’ and gave Judith a kiss on the top of the head. Once the door was closed, Rick found himself leaning against it and staring down the empty hall of his house. 

He knew she was right. Rick was starting to feel trapped in his own house. Judith being here made things easier, but when she was gone along with Carl when the house was silent… that’s when things began getting suffocating. Rick felt a bit of panic building in his chest, making it a little harder to breathe. He shook the feeling off as best as he could and pushed off the door, heading back into the living room to turn the television on, leaving it on a jazz music channel. It wasn’t Judith’s loud babbling or Carl’s video games, but it was some sound and it grounded him.

Not even a minute into the song and there was another knock at the door. Rick hoped that Olivia had canceled the plans and was bringing Judith back, but he knew that wasn’t the case. He carried himself back to the door, opening it mid-sentence.

 

**“If she’s getting fussy, you don’t --”**

 

Rick snapped his mouth shut once the door was opened and there stood the leather jacket wearing asshole from the day before… holding a Tupperware bowl of spaghetti. 

 

**“Peace offering?”** The man asked with a grin, as if Rick hadn’t tried to knock those perfect teeth in the day before.

**“It’s nine in the morning…”**

**“Spaghetti is an any-time meal,”** the man insisted.

**“Aren’t you a teacher? Shouldn’t you be… I don’t know, at work?”**

**“Who the fuck are you? My parole officer?”** The man asked, letting a brief moment of silence fall between them. **“Are you gonna invite me in or be rude as fuck?”**

**“Do you have a parole officer?”** Rick asked before he moved aside because that seemed like a question he needed to be answered before letting this man inside.

**“Do I look like I have a damn parole officer?”** He asked. **“-- Don’t answer that. Listen, it’s hot as shit out here, where’s some southern hospitality?”**

 

Rick let out a sigh and reluctantly moved aside to let the man inside. He closed the door and guided the other into the kitchen, unsure of what to do with the spaghetti beside put it in the fridge. He’d just eaten breakfast and he wasn’t an ‘any-time is spaghetti time’ guy like the other before him was. Rick wasn’t even sure why he’d let him in. He didn’t even know his name.

 

**“Rick Grimes.”**

**“What?”** The man asked in a startled manner like he’d forgotten Rick was even there. Too busy inspecting the place. Maybe he was planning on robbing it.

**“My name. It’s Rick.”**

**“Rick the prick, got’cha. Negan.”**

**“Negan?”** Rick repeated, ignoring the insult. **“Your name is Negan?”**

**“Common name, you probably hear it all the time.”**

**“Actually, no --”**

**“Jesus, Ricky. That was fucking sarcasm. No wonder your kid has some bottled up attitude, he probably lets it fly around here all the time and you don’t even notice.”**

Rick winced at the words. **“Did you just come here to insult me?”**

**“What?”** Negan turned to finally look at him. **“No. I made you some fucking spaghetti and I wanted a peace offering.”**

Rick frowned at the words. **“Okay…”**

 

The spaghetti was put in his hands and for a moment, he just stared down at it. Unsure what exactly it meant. It couldn’t have just been a peace offering, the other had to want something. It had Rick’s anxiety through the roof. He turned to put it in the fridge and by the time he closed the door to turn his attention back to Negan, the man was gone.

Rick’s heart stopped in his chest. He’d let a delinquent in his house and his gun was upstairs. Mid-panic attack, the man came back into view from the hallway, holding a picture frame. 

 

**“You got a little one? What’s her name?”**

**“You’ve been in here two minutes and you’re already nosing around,”** Rick claimed as he walked over to grab the frame to take a look at it. It was when Judith was first born, Carl had been the second one to hold her, and what a proud brother he was.

**“She looks like you.”**

Rick paused. **“She does?”**

**“You sound surprised,”** Negan said with a chuckle.

 

Of course, Negan couldn’t know that there was a chance Judith wasn’t his. But, his words still threw him off guard. It mattered little whose blood Judith had running through her. She was his daughter, he’d raised her from day one, he loved her and Carl more than anything -- they were all he had now.

 

**“Anyone ever** tell **you that you don’t do the whole host thing very fucking well?”**

Rick snapped out of his thoughts and looked up at the man who was now right in his face. Did he not understand boundaries? **“What?”**

Negan chuckled in his face, literally. **“You zoned out. Normally, I don’t take kind of shit lightly, but I’ll let it slide.”**

**“Is -- Is something keeping you here?”** Rick asked curiously.

 

Negan didn’t answer. Which unnerved Rick. But, he supposed he should just enjoy the company. An asshole the man may be, but Rick had little options these days. He heavily pondered for a moment on his next words, but there wasn’t much that stopped them from coming out.

 

**“Do you want to go to the park? I -- Well, I’ve been told I need some air.”**

**“Need some fuckin’ sun, too. As long as you’re not out to bite my neck, I’ll go with you, damn vampire.”**

**“I’m not -- It’s not that bad,”** Rick claimed with a roll of his eyes.

**“Sure it ain’t, cowboy. We can take my car,”** Negan claimed.

**“Yeah, okay. Thanks.”**

**“Shit, this is what it takes to get some fucking gratitude and manners?”** Negan teased. **“Don’t fucking mention it, Ricky. I’ll be outside,”** he said as he moved towards the door frame of the kitchen, stopping for a moment to throw a grin at Rick. **“And, between us, if you start biting me on the neck, I sure as hell won’t pull out a stake. Try to poke you with something else, but shit, no man is perfect despite first date expectations.”**

 

Rick stood there for a moment in silence as he tried to process the words. He watched Negan disappear into the hallway and the only thing that snapped him back to reality as the sound of the front door alarm announcing the door behind opened.

 

**“This isn’t a _date_!”** He spluttered from the kitchen, only getting a loud laugh in response. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am so excited to be back. I'm sorry to anyone following this story for the long wait. A lot has happened in these last few months, but I'm back and hoping to be regular with chapters again. 
> 
> So, here it is! Their first date that is totally not a date!

Rick found it surprising how comfortable the silence between them was while Negan drove them. But, it couldn’t last. There was only so long Rick could go before his thoughts caught up to him. His eyes briefly ran along the cds he spotted in Negan’s console before he opted for the radio. Negan didn’t even give him a side-look, so he assumed it was okay to change the station and roam a bit. When he finally found a suitable station, it clearly wasn’t the right one because Negan was groaning within seconds of Rick sitting back in his seat and half a shift away from tapping his foot with the beat.

 

**“No,”** Negan declared as he moved a hand to turn the volume just about all the way down. 

**“What? That was a good song,”** Rick claimed.

Negan finally threw him the side-eye. **“We only listen to rock in this car.”**

**“Alan Jackson is better than any of those little angry, rock bands.”**

**“Alright, grandpa. Wasn’t aware I had a grandpa kink, but here the fuck we are.”**

**“A what?”**

**“You not know what a kink is? How fucking vanilla are you? You’ve got kids, so clearly you can’t be that new to the sex references.”**

**“I know what sex is, I’m sorry I’m not all about whips and chains -- what does this have to do with anything, anyway!?”** Rick asked him. **“We were discussing a country song!”**

**“No, sweetheart. We were discussing a country artist. I can take small doses of country music, but fuck all if you’re gonna make me listen to an entire station dedicated to the genre before giving me a piece of that ass.”**

**“A piece of what--?!”**

**“We’re here, darling,”** Negan told him with a smile as he turned the engine off. 

 

And, just like that, Negan was out the door and the conversation was dropped. Leaving Rick even more confused than he had been before getting into the car. He slid out of the car, now reluctant and clearly annoyed. It seemed to drop when he realized where they were. He’d brought up going to the park and had actually thought the man before him would be okay with that. But, no, he’d brought him to the zoo. 

 

**“I wanted to take a walk in the park --”**

**“You can’t see tigers in the fucking park, Ricky-boy.”**

 

Rick shot him a look, but it didn’t stop him from following Negan once the man’s large arm was around his shoulders and guiding him inside. His hand was fishing for his wallet when they arrived at the booth, only for Negan to be one step ahead with his card already between his fingers. The audacity of the man bringing him here, calling it a date, arguing with him then playfully playing it off, and now paying for his entry? It had Rick in a whirlwind. He couldn’t place his thumb on the man beside him.

 

It turned out getting to the tigers was an hour trip. They stopped to see the various animals: giraffes, monkeys, exotic bird exhibit -- Rick decided that Negan was just an oversized man child. Between stopping to eye the animals, taunt one or two of them, and read the description on the animal too loud as if he didn’t know a damn thing about a hippo. He was almost positive that this is why Carl liked him. Because they were damn-near the same person. Maybe Carl wasn’t his, either. They did have similar color in hair. 

 

God, he was fucked up in the head.

 

**“You keep spacing out like that, I’m going to start feeling insulted.”**

**“What?”** Rick spluttered as he looked up to find Negan right in his face. 

Negan chuckled and gave a shake of his head. **“Jesus shit. We’re fucking here, baby. The tigers,”** reminded him as he turned to gesture the large animal exhibit where… surprise, surprise, three tigers were lounging by their small pond. **“Let me fucking tell you, those three are beautiful little beasts. But, Shiva is the fucking star of the show.”**

**“Shiva?”**

**“Shiva, ‘The Destroyer’.”**

 

Rick nearly jumped out of his skin at the interruption, turning to see a man. Clearly, a zookeeper. He had on a uniform that read the zoo name, at least. Rick tried to offer a polite smile, but was unseen as Negan passed by him to clap the man on the back in a friendly manner. Just how often did he come here?

 

 **“Ezekiel, this is Ricky.”**  
**“-- Rick.”**  
**“He’s a cop.”**  
**“-- Sheriff’s Deputy.”**  
**“Jesus fucking Christ, are you going to correct me on everything?”**  
“Yes.”

 

There was a moment silence as Negan and Rick had a stare off. Ezekiel, surprisingly, looked at unfazed by the mood change. Their eerie eye-contact was only interrupted by Ezekiel sneaking between them to walk to the edge, letting out a sharp whistle that caught Rick’s attention. Rick only meant to give a brief glimpse, but his attention was held by the large tiger that came out of the small cave they had built in the corner. She had to be twice the size of the other tigers. He didn’t even know zoo animals could get to that size with their controlled diets. 

 

**“She’s beautiful,”** Rick offered the man. He seemed to be boasting over the tiger. 

**“She is magnificent,”** Ezekiel agreed as he turned to offer his hand. **“It is a pleasure to meet you, Rick. Thank you for coming to see her today.”**

Rick took his hand and offered another smile again. **“Well… it wasn’t exactly planned, but the day isn’t a total lost. Are you her handler?”**

**“I am. Would you like to pet her?”**

 

Ezekiel’s grip on his hand tightened and without waiting for an answer, Rick was being guided around the exhibit. Honestly, he couldn’t answer. Pet her? Was the man insane? He’d seen animals in the zoo being fed on documentaries. Extreme precautions were taken. If any animals let you pet them, they’d be in the petting zoo and he was pretty damn positive tigers were not on that list of animals. 

 

Before he knew it, he was brought in the back to a gate. He could see the tiger sanctuary through it. And, then that whistle again. Rick was sure he wasn’t going to get used to that sound. Shiva, knowing her call, calmly walked up to the gate. At first, Rick wondered if she was drugged up. Tigers were aggressive, they were dangerous. But, this one? She was a kitten excited to see her owner. Ezekiel, with no hesitation at all, walked up to the gate and crouched to reach his hand through. There was no scream or blood from it being bitten off. If there was any sound, it was a roar that resembled a very loud purr. 

 

Rick nearly jumped out of his skin for the second time that day when he was guided closer to the gate by a hand on his lower-back. Frightened eyes turned to Negan next to him who was as cool as a cucumber. Rick was positive normal people would be feeling the adrenaline high he was. He was pressured to kneel on the ground next to Ezekiel just as Shiva moved to lay on her side. A shaky hand reached through the bars to press into the tiger’s fur. He was only able to relax after a few strokes and the tiger not so much as batting an eye at them. 

 

Carl was going to beg to come here if he told the boy about this moment. He felt a hand creeping up his back, this time in a soothing motion. Rick turned to look at Negan, offering a small, hesitant smile, though Negan’s eyes were on the tiger in front of them. He wasn’t sure how long he was staring at the other. But, his awareness to the real world tuned back in when he felt fingers brushing against his own. Negan had, at some point, reached out to pet Shiva and Rick must have bumped his hand against the other’s. He immediately pulled his hand back, as if he had touched a hot burner. 

 

**“Rick?”**

**“ -- Can we go?”** Rick blurted out. He looked between the two. **“This is -- Shiva was great, thank you. I just… I’d like to go home.”**

**“Yeah,”** Negan answered as he moved to stand up, offering a hand to help Rick get up, but he was brushed off as Rick stood himself. **“I’m sure I’ll bring my kids by one day to see her, if you don’t mind.”**

**“Not at all,”** Ezekiel waved off. **“Thank you for visiting.”**

 

Rick gave a nod of his head and turned to run with his tail between his legs. He didn’t seem bothered that he was trying to keep two steps in front of Negan. The man had drove him here, but he had to put some distance between them. He wondered how alarming he looked to the other guests as he hurried out of the zoo and made a bee-line for the car. He stopped at the passenger door and took a deep breath. By the time he let it out, Negan was next to him, trying to place that hand on his back. He was quick to brush it off. 

 

**“I’m sorry. Just -- can we go home?”  
** **“Yeah,”** Negan answered, reaching to open the door for him.

  
Rick got in the car and tugged on his seatbelt. He watched as Negan rounded the car to get into the driver’s seat. It seemed the car ride was a lot faster than before. Maybe it was the traffic, or maybe it was Negan speeding to get out of the situation. Rick wasn’t sure. But, as soon as they turned on the block, Rick’s seatbelt was coming off. Negan barely had time to park before he was out of the car and heading up to his door to hide away. It was his luck that Negan was just a step behind him. He didn’t know how, but by God, the man was. 

 

**“Hey,”** Negan called with a hand pressed to the door. 

Rick fumbled with the keys for a moment to unlock it. **“Yeah?”**

**“Today was…”** Negan paused in the middle of his sentence as the door opened and Rick slipped inside. He stayed on the porch, though, so Rick guessed maybe he did have some luck after all. **“Fun.”**

**“Yeah. It was… thank you,”** he nodded back. 

 

Negan stood there for a moment, staring at Rick in a… confused and shock manner. Then he was turning to leave. Rick should have let him. He needed to go. Rick had… things to do. He was a busy man. But, something stopped him. He reached to grab hold of Negan’s jacket sleeve.

 

**“I did have fun today, Negan,”** Rick said earnestly.

**“Yeah? I could tell. All my dates usually run like a bat outta hell at the end, babe.”**

**“No, I -- I mean… Negan…”**

**“I’m just teasin’, darlin’. Got a little too much, didn’t it?”** Negan asked. Rick could barely nod before he was continuing, **“I gotta get home and feed the cat, anyway. You can…”** he paused to grab a letter out of Rick’s mailbox. Rick wasn’t sure where the hell he got a pen from, but next thing he knew, he was being handed an electric bill with Negan’s phone number on it. **“Smooth, right? Just text me if you want to go to the zoo again. Or, if you want to fucking do anything. We could grab a beer, watch a disney movie with the small ones. You know --”**

**“Thank you, Negan,”** Rick said sincerely. 

 

Negan flashed a grin and a wink before he turned to head home himself. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As promised, just shy over my week estimate. Here's the next chapter!

**"Hey, uh…”**

 

Rick lifted his head from the book he’d been reading to see his son at the door. Normally, he’d mention that Carl needed to knock before entering his bedroom. But, the look on Carl’s face had him forgetting about manners. The book snapped shut as he moved to throw his legs over the bed, gesturing to the spot next to him with a pat to the bed. Carl didn’t need to be told to take it. He wasn’t sure how long they sat there in silence, but, he wasn’t going to rush his son. Not when he looked like he had a lot on his mind. Rick had always been good at reading people. He used to be able to tell how Carl was feeling without needing to be told. But, lately? With everything that had happened, Carl became guarded. Rick hated it. He understood it, but he hated it. 

 

Rick reached up to run a hand through Carl’s hair, pushing it off his forehead and offering the boy a smile in hopes that it would calm him some. It didn’t seem like it was working at first, but then Carl was leaning into his side and letting Rick one-arm hug him. He knew Carl had been pushing him away lately. He was angry about everything and while, multiple times, Carl had expressed that he knew Rick did nothing wrong, he reckoned that it was hard to not be mad at both parties involved.

 

**“Mom called today.”**

 

Out of all the possible outcomes he could think of when it came to what had Carl upset, Rick hadn’t actually thought of that one. Lori hadn’t called much since leaving with Shane. She’d only been by a few days after getting released from the hospital to pick up her clothes, but Carl hadn’t been home, then. 

 

**“What did she say?”**

**“Asked me how I was. Asked how Judith was. She… talked to me about school and asked me if I made any friends and -- I hung up on her.”**

**“You what?”** Rick asked, squinting his eyes at his son. **“Carl, you’ve been wanting to talk to her for --”**

**“I know!”** Carl snapped at him and he was back to keeping his distance. He stood to walk to the door and for a moment, Rick thought he was going to go to his room and slam the door. But, instead, he whirled around to face him from the door. **“It’s bullshit, dad. She can’t call here and pretend like she was away at grandma’s staying a few nights. She can’t pretend like she hasn’t talked to me in fucking weeks.”**

 

Rick didn’t bother correcting the other’s language. Carl knew he was using words he shouldn’t be, but he was so angry that consequences meant little to him. That much was clear. It tugged at Rick’s heart-strings. 

 

**“She doesn’t know anything about us anymore, dad.”**

**“It’s only been a few months, Carl--”**

**“She doesn’t even know what color Judith’s hair is. Or what shade her eyes are. She doesn’t know I’m failing Biology, or that you barely fucking sleep.”**

**“Carl,”** Rick began with a sigh. **“I know how hard this is, but you can’t be--”**

**“I can’t be what, dad? I can’t be angry at her? I can’t hate her?”** **  
** **“Carl!”** Rick snapped.  **“That’s enough. You don’t hate her. She’s your mother.”**

**“I can hate her. I do,”** Carl replied sternly. **“I hate her and… I love her. I feel both. I’m allowed to feel how I want. You’re not the only one she left.”**

**“I understand--”**

**“No! No you fucking don’t!”** Carl ended up shouting at him. **“She -- She said she’s taking us, dad. She asked what I wanted my room to look like.”**

 

Rick felt his blood run cold. Shane’s words were on repeat in his head. He couldn’t lose the kids to them. He didn’t want Carl or Judith to think badly of their mother, but she  _ had  _ left. He’d been raising them alone the past few months, he’d put aside his own feelings (or he’d tried his damned hardest to) to make sure they were okay. He wasn’t going to lose his only crutch in this world.

 

**“Dad?”** **  
** **“Buddy--”**

**“I don’t want to live with them, dad…”**

**“You’re not,”** Rick claimed. **“You’re not, okay? I promise. I’ll talk to your mother. Go do your homework, okay?”**

**“Can I take Judith to the park? I’ll ask Liv or Maggie to go, too.”**

**“Yeah, kiddo. Go ahead.”**

 

Rick waited in his bed, eyes glued to the wall until he heard the front door shut door and he was left in silence. He knew it was going to happen. Hell, Shane had warned him. They were going to come for a court day to finalize the divorce and situate the kids. And, they were wanting full custody. He couldn’t handle that. He couldn’t be alone like that. His kids were all that he had, they were everything to him. If he was forced to only see them for holidays or even every other weekend, he was likely to go mad. 

 

He reached for his phone after who knows how long he sat there in mind-shock. He’d meant to call Lori. He needed to talk to her. He needed to stress to her that this wasn’t happening. She wasn’t going to take his kids from him. She could have whatever she wanted: the house, what they had in their shared bank, the cars. He didn’t  _ care _ , but she wasn’t having the kids. But, instead, he found himself hitting call on Negan’s number.

 

**“This is Negan,”** the man answered with.

**“Hey…”**

**“Well, hell-fucking-lo, stranger.”**

**“What?”** Rick spluttered before he realized that Negan had given him his number. And, that this was the first time he had called.  **“Oh, um, this is Rick.”**

**“Rick? Jesus shit. I know you weren’t exactly a fan of the whole zoo date, but making a man wait two weeks for a damn call?”**

**“It hasn’t been…”** Rick paused. It had. Nearly. He’d last met and went out with Negan twelve days ago. He felt awful.  **“I’m sorry.”**

**“Ricky. I’m fucking pulling your leg. Listen, I’m glad you called.”**

**“You are?”**

**“Yeah. Fuckin’ happy to talk to you. You call to schedule another date?”**

**Rick was quiet for a moment after. “What? No. I… I just…”** he struggled, because honestly, he didn’t know why he had called Negan of all people. He could have called Daryl, Glenn, Maggie, Michonne. Someone who knew the situation, who knew what Rick had been going through. He wasn’t sure when the need to cry hit him, but before he could stop it, a sob escaped his lips. 

**“Hey, hey. Fuck, baby, are you crying?”**

**“No! No. I’m not -- I’m not --”**

**“Listen, it’s okay. Do you need me to pick you up? Or are you at home? I’ll come over.”**

**“No. No, don’t come over,”** Rick ordered weakly.

Negan let a few seconds go between them before offering, **“do you want to come over here?”**

**“I can come over?”** Rick asked him. 

**“Yeah, Rick. Whatever you want. Will you coming over make you feel better?”**

It was odd, but he couldn’t deny it would. **“A little…”**

**“Come on over, then. I was just making lunch, I’ll set you a plate.”**

**“It’s not spaghetti, is it?”**

**“Jesus shit, babe,”** Negan laughed out. **“Just get your little ass over here.”**

 

Rick let out a quiet laugh as he hung up. He couldn’t explain where he got the motivation to get up and pull on a shirt, or what had him actually leaving the house to go over to Negan’s. He needed to stay home and deal with his falling apart life, he knew that. But, here he was, already in the car and driving away from his responsibilities. 

 

When he got to Negan’s, he pulled into the empty driveway, wondering where Negan’s car was if the man was  _ home _ ? But, not questioning it until he got to the door to knock. He was probably meeting the man here. Rick wondered if he had pulled him away from something important. That is, until the door opened and there Negan stood. And, from the smell of it, he was  _ actually _ making lunch. 

 

**“Hey, thanks for… inviting me over,”** Rick said carefully.

**“Come on, you’re gonna make me burn the damn chicken,”** Negan claimed with a grin as he turned to head back into what Rick assumed was the kitchen.

 

Rick wasn’t sure why stepping into Negan’s house was being treated like this… thing. It wasn’t. So what? He was at the man’s house. A man he had… sort of went on a date with. The click of the door shutting brought him back to reality. He gave a look around in the hallway, noting the lack of pictures. He led himself through to the kitchen where Negan was standing, a cookbook propped on the windowsill over the sink and some vegetables cooking in a skillet.

 

**“Uh, Negan,”** he interrupted the man’s thought once he noticed a skillet handle poking out of the trash can.  **“You do know how to cook, right?”**

**“Yeah. Sure. I fucking cooked you spaghetti, didn’t I?”** Negan asked as he squinted at the book in front of him.

**“Well, yeah… but do you know how to cook… more than spaghetti?”**

**“Er… well, we’re getting to that,”** Negan claimed as he worked on getting the vegetables out of the skillet. 

**“I’m going to leave here with food poisoning--”**

**“Dramatic ass, sit down,”** Negan ordered with a laugh.

 

Rick moved to sit down in one of the bar stools at the counter. Watching the man work a kitchen he had little idea around was interesting. He kept glancing at the propped up book every minute by the minute, as if the next step was going to change on him suddenly. He was almost cute. 

 

A thought that had Rick stop himself. Negan?  _ Cute _ ? Was he really thinking of the man in that manner? It felt wrong. Sure, they had gone on a date. A  _ not _ -date. But, he wasn’t ready for this. Not in any manner. He’d never even been with a man and now? He’d come to a man’s house for comfort and lunch. 

 

**“You like cheese?”**

**“Huh?”** Rick spluttered.

**“Cheese. Do you want cheese on the vegetables?”**

**“Cheese doesn’t… go on vegetables,”** Rick replied in a confused tone. 

**“Just fuckin’ trust me, will you? Do you like cheese?”**

Rick let out a sigh. **“Yeah, cheese is okay,”** he relented. 

 

Rick went back to his thoughts for a moment. Letting himself wallow in guilt for another few moments before the slam of the oven door had him jumping. 

 

**“May I use your bathroom?”**

**“Yeah, sweetheart. It’s upstairs to the left.”**

 

Rick used the few moments to escape. He carried himself upstairs and to the bathroom, his intent only to take a piss, wash his hands and face and then head back down to watch Negan finish cooking. But, something stopped him in the hall. A cracked door. It was an invasion to push it the rest of the way open. But, he hadn’t been able to put his finger on Negan yet. There wasn’t any pictures in the hall, the brief look in the living room showed your average used couch and television set. His kitchen had been stocked, but he didn’t know how to cook.

 

He jumped at the brush of something against his leg, looking down to see the white cat staring up at him.  **“Holy shit. Hey, don’t -- don’t sneak up on me,”** he ordered as he crouched down to give the cat a pet. The poor thing was desperate for attention, rubbing against the offered hand and purring loudly. He checked the tag on the collar.  **“Jack, huh? That’s a weird name for a cat. But, I guess you had little luck in the name department, I mean, you were named by a** **_Negan,_ ** **”** he lightly teased the small thing as his eyes followed it along Negan’s  _ bedroom _ . 

 

It was a nice sleeping area. It fit Negan. Dark red colors for the blankets and walls, black for the sheets and curtains. He’d only known the man for a couple of weeks (briefly, at that), but it was Negan. He walked along the room, tracing the dresser. There were a few personal items. Cuff-links, he didn’t think Negan was the dress-up type. A picture from of a little boy, he assumed Negan, in full baseball uniform, standing next to a taller, lankier man who was nearly a copy of Negan. His father, it was obvious, and Negan took after the man well. Rick was grinning from ear to ear as he turned towards the bed, walking over to the side-table where a wallet sat. He wasn’t going to rummage the wallet, even if he was a little curious if Negan was a last name or a first. It was the ring on the edge that caught him off guard.

 

What compelled him to open up the drawer (it was probably the gold band), he didn’t know. Or, to pick up the turned over picture frame inside. But, a part of him was happy he did. Rick wasn’t sure how to take in the picture. It was of Negan, it had to be a few years old. There was no grey on his temples, no worry lines along his forehead. No, he looked perfect. Like any man should.

 

_ On their wedding day _ .

 

The woman next to him in the picture was just as beautiful. She wasn’t the one he’d met when he came by to chew Negan out over Carl. No, this woman was nearly half Negan’s size. She was blonde, smiling as wide as Rick had been moments ago, and staring at Negan like any wife should.

 

**“Hey, babe, you alright?”** Negan called from downstairs.

 

_ Babe _ . He was married, and he was calling him  _ babe _ . The picture frame abandoned on the bed, Rick left the room and headed downstairs, stopping just shy of the kitchen door to examine the walls. The faded lines in the paint, the residue from what used to hold up picture frames Negan had removed and probably hidden away like he had upstairs. 

 

Rick wondered if he did this before Rick came over. Maybe his wife was away for the weekend. Or, maybe she was out of town or the states and that’s why he’d had company over the last time Rick came over. Possibilities were whirling in his head. 

 

The  _ car _ . It’d been gone. That solved it. She was in town. She was just  _ out _ . With friends? Shopping? At work? Visiting someone? Rick didn’t know. But, this had been planned. It’s why Negan preferred to come over to  _ his _ house. It was too much work hiding it. He was too sloppy with it. 

 

He only snapped out of it when he felt a hand to his shoulder.

 

**“What?”** Rick asked, short with the man as he whirled to stare at him.

**“You’re so lucky you’re cute when you space the fuck out.”**

**“I’m not - cute.”**

**“Babe.”**

**“Don’t fucking call me that.”**

**“Uh,”** Negan spluttered, taken back by the time.  **“Lunch is ready if you’re hungry, sweetheart,”** he offered, clearly alright with moving on past the snap, but Rick sure as hell wasn’t.

**“Did you have to learn to cook for yourself and your** **_guests_ ** **since your wife isn’t home to cook for you?”**

Negan was quiet for a moment, his expression passive.  **“Excuse me?”**

**“I saw the picture. Upstairs, in your room. In the fucking drawer. You’re married. There’s a Goddamn ring up there, too. You take it off when you’ve got women coming over? Or, men, for that matter. Does she even know you like guys? Or, is that going to be the cherry on top when you’re exposed. You know cheaters always fucking get caught.”**

 

Rick was seething. He couldn’t believe he’d done it again. He’d come to like Negan, God knows why. He must have a type. Lori with Shane and now Negan with his  _ Goddamn wife _ . The poor woman.

 

**“Get out.”**

**“Excuse me?”** Rick spat back. **“You don’t have any right to talk to me like that. I’m not in the fucking wrong here--”**

**“I said get the fuck out of my house!”** Negan bellowed, causing Rick to jump back.

 

Before he could react further, Rick was grabbed by the short and forced backwards towards the door, only keeping upright by the hold the bigger man had on him. That is, until the door was opened and he was literally  _ thrown out _ . He hit the ground  and was suddenly glad Negan’s damn porch was only two small steps elevated. 

 

**“You don’t fucking come back here. You sneaky, nosey son of a --”**

**“** **_Sneaky_ ** **? I’m not the one cheating on his wife!”** Rick shouted loud enough that he hoped neighbors heard. He hoped that the one next door was a gossiper and that the poor woman would find out without Rick having to come by and make her look in the eye of one of the guys Negan  _ tried _ to get with. 

**“Fuck you.”**

**“No, fuck you!”** Rick snapped back as the door slammed shut. 


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, I know I promised weekly updates, but Thanksgiving was HECTIC. Sorry for the late post, but here it is! It has angst, it has cute, it's pretty much a whole fanfic in one chapter.

It was easy to tell that something was wrong with Rick when he got home. Carl and Judith had got home from the park with Olivia not long before, even had brought a few old friends of Rick in tow, seeing as Judith who didn’t have many friends her own age (as a baby) and adored their son Hershel. Normally, Rick would be happy to see them. Glenn was a very close friend of his. But, Glenn barely got a hello out before Rick was up the stairs and hiding away in his room.

 

Rick should have expected the knock on his door just twenty minutes later. He considered not answering it, but he knew nobody downstairs deserved that. They hadn’t done anything wrong. With much reluctance, he walked over to open the door. Trying his best to smile at Glenn, but it was a easy fake to spot.

 

**“You wanna talk about it, man?”**

**“Talk about what, Glenn?”**

**“Man, come on.”**

Rick was quiet for a moment, eyes darting for a moment.  **“How’s Hershel? He seems to be getting big--”**

**“** **_Rick_ ** **. Talk to me,”** he ordered, easily brushing past him and into the bedroom. 

**“I think I’m seeing a guy.”**

**“Uh… you think?”**

**“I mean… no. I’m not. I’m** **_not_ ** **seeing a guy, I was… kind of.”**

**“Uh, what?”** Glenn spluttered with a raised brow.  **“What do you mean kind of? Are you… I mean, listen, there’s nothing wrong with liking guys, you know? Aaron, Jesus and Daryl all like guys and they’re great.”**

**“This isn’t about liking guys! This is about liking Negan!”** Rick found himself snapping.

**“Negan?”** Glenn repeated, brows furrowed for a moment.  **“Negan as in that asshole coach at the high school?”**

**“Yeah. I think. He’s a teacher?”** Rick claimed.  **“How do you know that?”**

**“Beth. She plays baseball. I’ve met him a few times when I had to pick her up from practice. He’s her coach, I think he teaches like Math or something.”**

**“** **_Math_ ** **? He teaches** **_Math_ ** **?”**

**“You’re** **_dating_ ** **him?”**

**“No! I… I said kind of.”**

**“What the hell does kind of mean!?”**

**“I don’t know!”**

 

Rick felt like pulling his hair out. He couldn’t explain it. They weren’t dating by traditional terms. There’d been no getting to know each other over dinner, there’s been no courting of any kind. Just a zoo trip and… and somehow some feelings. 

 

**“If this is because I called him an asshole and made you ashamed, I mean --”**

**“No… No. I think that I could have dated him,”** Rick admitted.  **“He has a wife, Glenn. He was cheating on her. I was… I was the other woman -- man -- or something. I was the** **_other_ ** **.”**

**“His wife? Are you sure?”**

**“What do you mean am I sure? I saw the picture. I saw his ring, Glenn. He had them hidden away from me in case he got me in the bedroom, I guess.”**

**“I just… well, because of last year.”**

**“Last year?”** Rick repeated.

**“Yeah. Uh, last year, mid season, they had the assistant coach running things. It was a mess. Beth was kept later and later every practice, they won like two games in the whole season. It almost made Beth quit.”**

**“Where was Negan?”**

**“That’s what I’m saying, man. I asked and they said he had to take time off because of his wife. She was real sick or something. Beth said he didn’t come till the next year because she passed away.”**

**“I saw the picture and his wedding ring and... “**

 

And, they’d been hidden away. The pictures in the house had been taken down. Anything that was a  _ constant reminder _ had been put up for safe keeping. There was a chance Glenn wasn’t sure if she had died, maybe she was just sick and got better? But, how could Rick know the answer? He’d blown up at Negan and not given him even a second to explain. 

 

**“Rick?”**

**“Can you -- Can you watch the kids? I have to go do something,”** Rick claimed.

**“Yeah, we were gonna stay for dinner anyway. I’m sure Maggie won’t mind helping me cook.”**

**“Thanks,”** Rick barely got out before he was up and out the door.

 

He didn’t get a chance to explain as he rushed out the front door. Even though he heard Carl call his name. He felt bad about not stopping and seeing what the other needed, but apparently he was fucking everything up today so he didn’t want to start a fight with Carl  _ again _ . When Rick got in his car, he was rushing out of the driveway like a madman. It only took a few minutes to get to Negan’s part of the neighborhood, but Rick got there before the song on the radio even ended. And, when he got there? He just sat in his car, staring at the garage door. 

 

Rick had no clue what the hell he was doing. He had yelled at Negan, called him a cheater, made a scene on his lawn. And, while he still wasn’t 100% on if Negan’s wife had passed like Glenn said, if she did… he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to apologize for that. He wasn’t sure how long he ended up sitting in the driveway, but it was long enough for someone in  _ Negan’s _ car to pull up behind him and block him in. His hand reached to open the door and he stepped out in time with the woman.

 

The  _ woman _ . 

 

**“Excuse me?”** Rick called to the woman who froze like a deer in headlights. 

“What?” he snapped back at him, throwing Rick off a little. 

**“I just… I’m a friend of Negan,”** he admitted, or maybe  _ lied _ . He wasn’t sure yet.

**“Okay?”**

**“Do you know him… well?”** She wasn’t the woman in the picture. This wasn’t his  _ wife _ , but she’d bothered his car so they had to know one another.

**“I suppose. We’re neighbors. We have drinks every once in awhile,”** he mused.  **“Why?”** she sighed out. 

**“Do you know his wife?”**

**“His… uh,”** he stammered.  **“Sure. Yeah. Lucille.”**

**“Yeah, Lucille. Okay, so… so he is married?”**

The woman sighed once more. **“No. She passed a bit ago.”**

**“What the fuck?”** Negan interrupted them, causing Rick to jump, the woman… she just turned and gave Negan a look. 

**“Thanks for letting me borrow the car, Negan. Could you give me a ride to work tomorrow before you head in?”**

**“Yeah, sure, Arat,”** Negan answered  _ Arat _ . They exchanged a pair of keys and Arat gave Rick one last look before she went to the house across the street. 

 

Rick turned his eyes away from Arat to find Negan staring at him with… a cold expression? And,Rick understood why. It’d been confirmed. He’d fucked up. And, Rick wasn’t sure an apology was going to work because even when Rick had punched him, Negan didn’t look as pissed off as now. 

 

“If you came over to spray paint on my garage door or key my car, go a-fucking-head and do it. I’m going back in to finish my fucking drink,” Negan finally spoke.

“Wait,” Rick called when the man turned. “Wait, I... “

“You what?” Negan asked without turning back to him. 

“I know about Lucille and I just…”

“Yeah, well, you would have fucking found out about her eventually. When I wanted to  _ tell _ you.” 

“I’m sorry,” Rick said softly. “I really am. I shouldn’t have… treated you like that. I was just... “ 

“I know what you were fucking feeling,” Negan claimed. “Come on, I told you, I want a fucking shot,” he said as he headed inside, leaving the door open.

 

Rick took a deep breath before he followed the other inside. He navigated himself into the living room to sit down, not bothering to mention the empty, fancy looking bottle that looks like it’d carry bourbon or whiskey scattered across the coffee table as Negan walked in with a beer. When Negan sat down, it was on the opposite end of the couch and it made Rick feel even  _ worse _ . He didn’t know how to start this conversation. There was a frog caught in his throat. 

 

**“She died of cancer,”** Negan broke the ice for them and it made Rick’s blood run cold.  **“She didn’t even wanna fucking tell me, you know? I came home that day and -- and she passed the fuck out, I didn’t know what to do, so I called an ambulance. We got there and the doctor started talking about how she needed to eat, even if the medicine made her feel sick. I was just thinking: what fucking medicine. Doxil, that’s what kind of fucking medicine. She’d been taking the shit for a month before that,”** he claimed. 

 

He slammed his beer on the table and leaned forward. **“And, you know why I didn’t fucking notice the change? Because I was a fucking cheater. I… I was an idiot. I was an ungrateful bastard who couldn’t see that he had everything he needed at home. She knew, of course she fucking knew. When we got home that night she told me she did. She’d seen the texts, she knew I wasn’t staying at school so late. She… she told me to leave. She told me to go be happy with the other woman. I** **_couldn’t_ ** **. I** **_couldn’t_ ** **,”** he stressed.  **“I loved her so fucking much. And, my ego got in the way of that. It ain’t an excuse, but I fucking couldn’t leave her. I had to stay and make up for the shit I did. I took time off work, I was at her side twenty-four-seven. It wasn’t enough. She kept losing weight and hair and… faith. I tried to make up for it and I couldn’t.”**

 

Rick was quiet for a long few moments. He couldn’t believe that he’d been so right and so wrong, but… as much as he wanted to hate the other for cheating? He couldn’t. Because, Negan sounded so  _ broken-up _ about it. Like he really did regret being like that. It was more than he could say for Lori. Maybe, just maybe, one day her and Shane would feel like that and would be able to apologize to him. 

 

He was interrupted from his musing by a sniffle. He turned to see Negan barely holding himself together and still drinking that  _ fucking beer _ . Rick scooted over to him, his hand moving to Negan’s thigh in a comforting gesture before he threw caution to the air and moved into the man’s arms. The beer spilled over their shoe from the movement into Negan’s arms, but Negan didn’t seem to mind. He wrapped his arms around Rick and held him tightly. 

 

Rick stayed in his arms for a good few minutes, not saying anything. Just offering closeness to the other. They stayed together well past the commercials and every once in awhile, he felt Negan shudder against him in a held in a sob. 

 

**“You made a mistake,”** Rick claimed.  **“You felt… remorse. You… you tried, right? To make it better. That counts for something.”**

**“I dunno if she ever forgave me,”** Negan whispered into his hair. 

**“She let you stay, she let you take care of her, right?”** Rick asked.  **“I think that was her forgiving you. I mean… I wouldn’t want you around if I didn’t forgive you, especially for my last few months alive. I think she loved you, like you loved her.”**

**“You ain’t gotta say all that…”**

**“I’m not just saying it, Negan. I do want you to feel better but… I’m not just lying to you.”**

 

Negan sighed into his hair and reached for Rick’s chin to tilt his head up. Rick stared at the man long and hard for a few seconds that felt like forever. He knew what Negan was wanting to do. He wasn’t pushing for it, though because he easily, from this position, move Rick onto his back and climb aboard. He didn’t, though. He was giving Rick a choice. Rick wondered if it was because of the whole cheating ordeal. They’d been building something before all of this and now? He knew how Rick felt about cheaters, Rick had yelled about it enough and while he hadn’t been cheated on himself or been played as the other person, it was still an obstacle between them.

 

But, Rick had meant what he said. The fact that Negan showed true remorse, it was… it didn’t make things okay. What Negan did was wrong. But, it made Rick believe he’d changed for the better. 

 

Because of that belief, Rick moved in for Negan, pressing their lips together only briefly at first. Just brushing them together and pulling back enough to give the other a look, to check if that was okay. It must have been, because then he felt Negan’s fingers running through his curl and pulling him in for a real kiss. His eyes drooped as he kissed the man back, arms moving around his neck. 

 

Rick only pulled away again when he felt a tongue prodding his now swollen lips. His cheeks burned when he realized he’d somehow managed to get himself in Negan’s lap. 

 

**“You alright?”** Negan asked.

**“Y-yeah, uh, yeah I am,”** Rick admitted. And, honestly, he was.

**“You’re beautiful as hell, darlin’.”**

**“Hell isn’t beautiful--”**

**“That was fucking lame,”** Negan claimed with a quiet laugh. The tension from before successfully beaten.

**“Are we boyfriends?”**

**“You wanna be boyfriends?”**

**“I need to know what to tell Glenn…”**

**“Baby,”** Negan breathed out with a snort.  **“You can call me your boyfriend, but you know that means I get to send you morning texts.”**

**“Morning texts? How high school. Do you promise they’ll be filled with ‘morning, oh sunshine of my day’,”** he teased.

**“Yeah, well… some of ‘em. The others’ll be dick pics.”**

**“Negan!”** Rick hissed, covering the man’s mouth, his cheeks burning again, this time making him feel like he had a damn fever. 

Negan laughed against the hand, moving it out of the way.  **“Fucking cute.”**

**“Shut up,”** Rick ordered, brushing their lips chastely together again.

**“You know… that’s a good fucking way to shut me up,”** Negan admitted.

  
Rick grinned at the man before kissing him again. Just to shut him up, and not at all because he found himself enjoying it.  _ Not at all _ .


	7. Update!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> to be deleted, just an update

Hey guys, I haven't forgotten about this. I have a chapter written, but it's only 1k words and I really want it to be more so I'm working on fixing it. Between family visiting, the holidays, and getting ready for Christmas, I've been really busy. But, that's dying now so I'm gonna have plenty of time to get back to weekly updates. The next chapter will be up later tonight/early tomorrow!


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